


Vanilla

by edourado



Series: Hell's Kitchen Chronicles [41]
Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Oneshot, domestic!kastle, kastle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 08:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13267371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edourado/pseuds/edourado
Summary: A treat in the middle of the night





	Vanilla

**Author's Note:**

> So who has two thumbs and forgot to post a bunch of drabbles from Tumblr? This girl.  
> This is from October, 2016.  
> Eesh.

She sometimes complains about the mattress, but he likes sleeping in her bed. It’s luxurious, compared to the makeshift cots and twin size ones he’s used to grab some shut eye in his safe houses. Karen’s bed is large, soft but not too soft - which is incredible for his back -, there are always clean sheets and pillowcases and, well, her.

And he really sleeps there. It’s a good place. It’s also an achievement. He was allowed to sleep on her bed, now, didn’t need to take the couch anymore.

But he prefers it when she is there with him.

Opening his eyes when his hand didn’t find her by his side, he blinked to adjust his vision and raised his head to look for her.

There she was, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, the white glare of her computer illuminating her face, hair swept to the side, lip between her teeth, blue eyes focused on the screen, fingers typing, typing, typing.

“Hey”, he called and she looked up at him, eyebrows up, blinking, a slight smile before she looked back at the screen, fingers never stopping on the keyboard.

“Hi.”

With a look to his phone on the bedside table, he groaned when the clock showed him the 2:36 AM mark.

“Come back to bed”, he asked, resting his head on the pillow again.

“I’ll be there in a second, I just need to… Write this down…Just a sec…”

The noise of her fingers on the computer was all too familiar at this point, and, from the sound of it, she was not close to a point where she deemed acceptable to turn the thing off. Sighing, Frank got up and walked towards the kitchen, a caress on her face when he walked by her.

Coffee wasn’t really a smart idea in the middle of the night, when he had the full intention of going back to bed. So ice cream it is.

Sitting on the couch, with his legs stretched in front of him, Frank settled against the cushions, facing Karen, who sat on the floor, wearing a black t shirt, the contrast with her white skin always a magnet to his eyes.

Sitting up, he reached his arm to offer her a spoonful of ice cream. Without taking her eyes from the screen or pausing her typing, she turned her face and opened her mouth, ate the icecream and came back to sit straight, mouth working around the vanilla treat.

“Did I wake you up?” she asked, licking the remaining sweet off her lips.

“No”, he said, his own mouth full. “Just missed ya, that’s all.”

“I’m almost done, promise.”

Frank watched her as she wrote, once again cataloguing the pleasant, peaceful feeling that it was to sit there with her, eating ice cream in the middle of the night as if they were a regular couple.

“I don’t want to be regular”, she would say. “That’s boring.”

It was the argument she used whenever he was on one of his guilt trips, wondering if he was being selfish, keeping her for himself when he had so little to offer.

He sat there watching her, the hair falling over her face, strands free from the professional bun she would wear almost everyday. He liked it when it was up, he could look at her neck and make plans for when his mouth would meet it, but this was good, too. Intimate. She never wore her hair this undone outside. Even when it was down, it was always neatly styled and parted, away from her face.

It was only at home that she allowed it to be this… Free. Around him. And he liked it. Loved it, actually. Because it was a part of her that it was private. Just for him.

(There were a few aspects of her that were his alone, but he really enjoyed these casual ones. It was almost as intimate as the way her body moved and the things she would whisper to him when he had her hot and naked and sweaty.)

When he moved to feed her another spoonful of ice cream, she turned to him,  smiling while her tongue swiped against her lips.

“All done.”

Getting up from the couch, he pulled her by the hand to help her to her feet after she saved her work and turned her computer off. When she rose to her full height, he leaned to place a vanilla flavored kiss on her lips.

“I’ll just put this away”, he said, slightly pushing her towards the bed by her waist.

Once the ice cream was on the fridge again and the spoon washed and on it’s drawer, he walked back to bed, crawling under the covers with her, kisses on her lips, her cheek, her neck, hand sliding from her waist to her butt, where it settled while she bent a leg over his.

“We should brush our teeth”, she said, her voice low, when he brought her hips to his.

“We should”, he replied, hand bypassing underwear to better enjoy the feel of her skin.

They didn’t. She pulled him on top of her, he stripped her of that black t shirt, and, slow and sweet, he sunk himself into her, breathing, touching, soaring to heaven on Earth that was her body.

And then they went to sleep, vanilla still on their breath.


End file.
